


Cemetery Dirt

by sister_wolf



Category: Hard Core Logo (1996)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-27
Updated: 2004-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-12 09:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_wolf/pseuds/sister_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What're ya doing, Billiam?"  The raspy growl wasn't a surprise.  He'd been wondering when Joe would show up again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cemetery Dirt

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for general fucked-upness.

The bottle was staring back at him.

Billy reached out for the bottle of rum, hesitated, pulled his hand back. Stood up and paced, window to easy chair to couch, trying not to look at the bottle or the book lying next to it on the coffee table.

Stupid, so stupid-- thinking of fucking three months of sobriety over, thinking of throwing himself over the edge again. Just because he was in Vancouver again, just because it was November... fuck, it was always November to him.

Billy paced back to the window and pressed his forehead against the cool glass. "Fuck."

"What're ya doing, Billiam?" The raspy growl wasn't a surprise. He'd been wondering when Joe would show up again.

"Contemplating the general shittyness of existence, Joseph," he answered, not turning away from the window.

"Oh, poor Billy, his life is just so complex."

"Fuck you!" He swung away from the window, glaring at his dead best friend. Joe sprawled comfortably on the sofa, holding a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. A slow trickle of blood oozed from the small hole in his forehead.

"Have a drink. Join me." Joe waved the bottle expansively.

"Fuck off."

"Suit yourself."

Billy flung himself down on the easy chair, stretching his legs out and staring at his boots moodily. "You know what day it is, don't you?"

"Yep." Joe grinned nastily. "It's our anniversary, baby."

"That why you've got the bullet hole this time?"

"And the two shot glasses. Can't forget those." Joe swiped his hand over the blood, looking curiously at the smear of red on his palm. "I was feeling festive. Thought we could make a real celebration of it. Want a drink?"

"No!" Billy exploded up out of the chair, grabbing the bottle and flinging it against the wall. It gouged a hole in the wallboard and fell to the carpet, unbroken. "What I want is to fucking get _rid_ of you!"

"That's not buddies."

"Neither is blowing your motherfucking _head_ off, Joe!"

Someone in the next room yelled something unintelligible and pounded on the wall a few times. Billy stood there panting, his fists clenched, fighting the urge to throw the chair right through the wall.

"Finally growing some balls, eh?"

"Fuck off, Joe. I'm getting rid of you once and for all."

"With... this?" Joe asked, poking disdainfully at the book on the coffee table. " _Practical Voudoun_? You gonna dig my body up and, what, sacrifice a chicken or something?"

"Or something." Billy picked up the book and stuffed it into a bulging backpack.

"You really think that's gonna work?" Joe was suddenly off the sofa and pressing his insubstantial body against Billy's back. Billy shivered, feeling chills run up and down his spine as Joe whispered in his ear, "It's gonna be harder than that to get rid of me, Billiam. You'll never be free of me. You think I don't know that you dream about me?" Joe chuckled. "No voodoo bullshit is gonna get rid of _me_. I'm in your head, Billy, I'm in your blood."

Billy twisted away from him, grabbed the bottle off the floor, and shoved it into the backpack. Slinging the backpack over his shoulder, he smiled and gave the ghost of his best friend a one-fingered salute. "Goodbye, Joe."

"Bye, baby," Joe drawled.

Hand on the doorknob, Billy couldn't resist one last shot. "See you in hell."

The door swung closed.

Joe grinned slowly, an unearthly glow in his pale blue eyes.

"See you soon."

* * *

 **JOE DICK**

Was buried in Mount Pleasant Cemetery. His body was stolen a year later and has never been recovered.

* end *


End file.
